The Iphone was announced several weeks ago. Mr. Neruda fell for the sex appeal for a brief moment.
Then he took the time to read through the specifications and let out a long drawn out yawn. He still hasn't stopped.
He wonders, when shall he pull out the shovel and start preparing a little plot for it next to his cemetery of ipods that suffered from major suicidal tendencies?
Mr. Neruda wants to love it... but from past experiences, he knows its most likely not going to love him back. Purchasing it would certainly be an excersise in constant contact book backups, out of fear of the inevitable hard disk faliure.
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